A Pitiful Woman
by ShinMarsDragon
Summary: Her hand trailed across his face, down his cheek, stopping with her thumb just barely below his bottom lip. Her smile broadened. "As I thought. You bear a striking resemblance to my late husband."


AN: Just so everyone is aware, this is a very dark and adult fic. Proceed with caution.

* * *

The Head of Construction bowed and scraped and swore this was the last delay. Queen Zeal was magnanimous and allowed him to live for another day, provided this was the very last delay and the Ocean Palace would be completed by next month, as promised. The Head of Construction was effulgent in his gratitude, and the court breathed a soft but noticeable sigh of relief.

Magus was bored. He couldn't remember anything in particular happening in the month before the completion of the Ocean Palace, so his powers were limited. The court might murmur as the dark circles under the Princess' eyes got deeper and deeper, but they would not act until too late. He'd already warned the Queen of the frog and his friends, and the Gurus were still necessary to construction. There was nothing to do but wait and watch.

The call "Dismissed!" rang out from the official criers, and slowly the court began to disperse. The lower nobility, the higher, the favored of the Queen, the three Gurus, and finally the Princess and the Prophet slowly left the court to their own businesses around Zeal.

"Prophet. Wait." The Queen's voice rang out, and Magus paused halfway to the great door. It wasn't unusual to for him to be called back to discuss the Ocean Palace, the power of Lavos, and the mysteries of the future. Schala's pace didn't even falter as she left.

Magus walked back to his usual place by the throne and bowed with the exact degree of politeness required. "What does my Queen wish to discuss?"

Instead of replying, Queen Zeal rested her chin on her hand and watched him with quiet, focused eyes. "I have been watching you as of late, Prophet."

"Does what you see please you, my Queen?"

"I believe it does, but I am not yet sure." Queen Zeal smiled, slow and languid. The smile of a cat seeing a kilwala cub with the mother no-where in sight. "It seems to me your face reminds me of someone, Prophet. Raise your hood that I may know."

Magus stiffened under his cloak. Had he given himself away somehow? He'd prepared meaningless prophecies, scraps and lies to give his abilities of the aura of truth while hiding the whole - but he had never expected to be recognized, changed as he was. It was such an absurd idea it had never occurred to him to explain his resemblance to the young Prince, and by some whim of fortune no one had asked. Until now. "Queen Zeal, I...I beg your pardon, but I have sworn to wear this hood until all the mysteries of the future are revealed. I cannot throw it off so easily."

The Queen's eyes sharpened and her hand reached out to toy with the edges of his hood. "Do you have something to hide, then?"

Damn. "Nothing, your Majesty."

"Then cease protesting." And with that, Queen Zeal tossed the hood back.

Magus froze, but the Queen's expression didn't change. Her hand trailed across his face, down his cheek, stopping with her thumb just barely below his bottom lip. Her smile broadened. "As I thought. You bear a striking resemblance to my late husband."

"D-do I, your Majesty?" It was a relief to know she did not recognize him as her son, but strange. Magus had always been told he took after his mother, just like Schala. He had never bothered to consider if they resembled his father, a man that existed only as a vague, blurred shape in his memory. King Zeal was not a figure discussed any more.

"You do," the Queen said, very soft. "Your brows, especially, and the shape of your face." Her thumb reached up and brushed across his lips.

Magus stepped back, careful not to jerk away and risk offense. "I do not believe it a wise idea to continue, my Queen. I...I am sure your late husband would agree."

The Queen watched him, smile gone and eyes unfriendly. "I do not recall granting you my favour and my sanctuary to be denied, Prophet. Come closer."

"Your majesty, I..."

Lightning crackled around her, though she remained still as the statues beside the throne. "Come closer, Prophet."

Fight or submit were the only options left. Magus was reasonably sure he could defeat Queen Zeal - she wasn't expecting an attack here, in her own court, and he had powers beyond her knowledge - but struggle would get him exiled to the cold Earth below. Schala would try to stop construction, but exhausted as she was she'd never be able to stand up to Dalton or the rest of the nobility. Lavos would come regardless, and Magus would be unable to take his revenge.

Unwillingly, Magus forced his legs to move and stepped to his mother's throne.

"Much better," the Queen murmured. She stroked his hair and he allowed it, she dragged him to an embrace and he allowed it, she crushed his lips against her own and he allowed it. Small things against Lavos' might.

Still, he wished Schala or the Gurus would return. Surely the Queen would not do this in front of her own daughter. Surely she still had that bit of shame.

But no one appeared, and when Queen Zeal drew away, licking her lips, there were no protests raised. "Follow me," she said, eyes alight, and like a child he obeyed, hating the way she could compel him even now. She wasn't his mother, she was just a pawn of the thing he had sworn to destroy, and even with all of that he could not find a way to stop her. He just followed, head down, all the way to her quarters.

The Queen's bedroom was the grandest in Zeal. The walls were covered with elegant carvings, sigils of power gracefully intertwined with mere decoration. The tiled floor was arranged in similar patterns, intricate pieces of wood that interlocked and formed new designs as one watched. Bookcases, tables covered in trinkets and mementos of an earlier time, and the bed.

It hunkered in the middle of the room like a beast. Twice or thrice as large as anything in Enhasa, covered in the softest and most delicately-stitched blankets, it contained every possible luxury.

Magus set his jaw and looked away, out the window. The light outside was fading as the sun sank beneath the clouds. Night was almost upon them.

A hand wrapped around his shoulders, and once again Queen Zeal drew him into a furious, biting kiss. Her teeth pried at his lips and he opened his mouth to her - why not, he'd allow more before this was over - and she took her liberties there as well. His mouth felt thoroughly plundered when she finally withdrew, the same cat-like smile on her face. Her hands trailed possessively along his sides, between the gaps in his armor, up his back, and he struggled to not flinch away.

Finally she stepped back, leaving just one hand to toy with the clasp of his cloak. "Undress," she commanded.

Magus bit back all his protests and nodded. Resignation was a heavy and bitter feeling in his gut, but not an unknown one. The cloak fell quickly and easily to the ground, and he was starting on his gloves when the Queen reached out a hand to stop him.

"Make a show of it, Prophet," she said, the familiar displeasure that so often foretold fury in her voice. "Do you behave so coldly to all your lovers?"

"I have studied magic, my Queen, not love." It was not so uncommon a thing in Zeal, but being forced to admit it churned his stomach all the same. He had lived among Fiends, the vile, unpleasant creatures, for most of his life, and had never the slightest desire to bring any of them to his bed. He had no time to waste on dalliances while Lavos lived.

"Hmph." Her eyes searched his expression, but not even Queen Zeal could change reality. "Very well. Just do your best." She waved at him to get on with it while she poured herself a glass of wine. "Undress slowly, and let me see you."

Slowly. Make a show of it. Magus grit his teeth and tried to obey under the Queen's watchful gaze. He pulled his gloves off one by one and let them fall to the ground, and she did not protest - nor encourage. She simply sipped her wine and watched.

His chest armor was next, and he tried to slow the familiar motions. What was he meant to be doing here? The armor dropped to the ground, followed by the wrappings around his waist. He paused there - not hesitated, Magus did not hesitate any longer - and stretched. Queen Zeal's eyes seemed to narrow in pleasure, which was all that could be hoped for.

Once again he considered just killing her, and once again he discarded it. All was small against Lavos. The kiss was a small thing. This humiliation was a small thing. Instead his hands found and loosened his belt, sliding it and his codpiece down his legs.

He realised about halfway through he really should have taken his boots off first. He was forced to awkwardly guide the straps over one, then the other, wobbling and praying he wouldn't fall. This was already bad enough.

By some chance he was successful, and the boots were off next, as quickly as he could manage it. Magus risked another look at Queen Zeal, trying to judge his performance.

The Queen was still sipping her wine, though she'd taken her headdress off while he was distracted. Her hair fell freely around her face now, a natural framing that Magus could never recall seeing before. Always, always his mother had worn the royal regalia. Even when she was still kind and loving, she was the Queen first and his mother after. Now, she...

Now she sipped wine and gestured at him to get on with it, impatient now that he'd stopped. Magus lowered his gaze and pulled at his undershirt. Just it and his pants left. Under the shirt, Schala's amulet burned his throat like a brand.

The shirt fluttered to the floor, taking the amulet with it. Schala couldn't save him now. His pants joined them not long after. He was sick of being a show. He stood straight before the Queen, an unspoken question in his gaze. What now?

The Queen set her wine down unhurriedly and stepped forward, absently loosening the clasp her on cloak as she did. The cloak fell to the ground with a heavy thunk, the sound all the louder in the silent room. Magus swallowed and kept his face calm and eyes steady as the Queen paced around him, letting her own eyes drink their fill.

"Not bad, Prophet," she murmured, letting her hand trail down his naked back. "You've led a harder life than most of Zeal, it seems."

"Yes."

"Hm." A hand trailed over a ragged scar beneath his ribs as the Queen came around to his front again. It was no relief to see her. "Is the surface so dangerous, then? My guards do not report trouble when gathering the Earthbound."

"The world is wide, my Queen, and contains dangers uncounted."

"You will tell me of them. Later." She smiled, wide and vicious.

Magus tensed before he could stop himself. Was the Queen getting suspicious? No, there was nothing she could be suspicious of - there was no possible way she could conceive of the truth. There _were_ dangers on the ground, he was sure of it. There was the Mountain of Woe, wasn't there? Wasn't that filled with monsters? He'd never been, but it had to be dangerous. He could claim to have holed himself up in some small cave to focus on his magic, which attracted monsters that preyed far from the guards of Zeal...

Lost in his thoughts, it took Magus precious moments to notice that the Queen had stopped her stalking and was standing in front of him, arms crossed and brows drawn. When she spoke, the easy pleasure earlier was gone from her voice. "Let I remind you, Prophet, that your position in court is entirely from my favor."

"...what does my Queen wish of me?" Magus asked carefully, though he could guess, in a hazy sort of way. It was true, he had focused all his study on the one, overpowering goal of destroying Lavos and gaining bloody vengeance, and Ozzie had certainly never bothered to take him aside for a talk. But one heard things, among the Fiends. Enough.

"You may have only studied magic, but you _are_ a man, aren't you? I fail to believe you're a complete innocent." The Queen grabbed his left hand and looked at it critically. She shifted her gaze to him, an eyebrow raised, and deliberately placed his hand on her waist. She took his other and placed it on her shoulder, eyes never leaving his.

This was a small thing, Magus reminded himself. He forced himself to remember the Gurus scattered like loose papers on the floor, Schala on her knees and screaming from the endless, awful roar coming from the spiked monstrous bulk called Lavos. This was nothing. He stepped forward and embraced the Queen, drawing her close. It was not quite a lover's embrace...but at least it was not a child's.

The Queen pressed against him, shifting her hips against his own in a way that sent ripples of revulsion through his stomach. Magus swallowed hard and rubbed his hands up and down her back, trying to concentrate on the sweet silken feel of her dress, not the flesh beneath it. He could smell the fresh, airy scent of Zeal's soap he had missed so much in the future on her, the same soap Schala used, and the thought turned his stomach again.

One of her hands tangled in his hair again - did she like it that much, or did she wish him to do the same to her? - and her lips pressed against his cheek, against his ear. "What happened to your ears, Prophet?" she whispered. "Did one of your ancestors love an imp?" She laughed at her poor joke.

"A magical accident," Magus replied tersely. A lie. If he hadn't figured out the shape-changing spell the Fiends would have killed him for being a human spy. Who cared if the filthy Earthbound that had taken over the world couldn't use magic? Even Ozzie's greed would only go so far when it came to protecting others. "It didn't kill me, so I didn't correct the error."

Queen Zeal pulled back and looked at him again, lips pursed in consideration. "You will fix it," she declared. "It will improve your features."

"Of course, your Majesty. As soon as the Ocean Palace is completed and I have time to devote to it."

A cloud of displeasure passed over her face at that - Queen Zeal was used to being obeyed - but the Ocean Palace and Lavos consumed her thoughts, and Magus knew she wouldn't risk delaying it by even a day. Though she frowned, she nodded. "Very well, then, as soon as the Ocean Palace is completed. I do not prize deformity in my favourites."

As soon the Ocean Palace is completed you will be dead, Magus thought, and the vicious pleasure of the idea buoyed him beyond his current position, beyond the implicit promise of more, beyond the Queen walking him backwards until he was shoved onto the bed.

She stood above him, still frowning. Frowning directly at his groin, and it seemed an embrace had only bought him so much time. Magus swallowed again to force his stomach calm and tried to muster even the slightest hint of attraction. Even if he couldn't think of Queen Zeal, then surely...he'd been intrigued by the Nagas at one point, hadn't he? Until he'd actually seen one crawling all over one of Ozzie's underlings, at which point he'd left in disgust. He tried to recall whatever adolescent longings he'd once had, tried to think of any of the court ladies he'd never bothered to notice before now.

The Queen's mouth shifted to consideration, though still weighed heavily with displeasure. She brushed her hand across his waist, over the tops of his thighs, and Magus looked to the ceiling and forced himself to believe it was someone, anyone, else's hand.

He failed. He was never much good at pretending.

"Is my appearance so unappealing, Prophet?" Queen Zeal asked, voice low and dangerous.

"Of course not, my Queen." His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth, and Magus cursed it. "I am simply...overwhelmed by your strength."

"Hm." The Queen's expression did not change as she straightened, nor did it shift when she reached behind herself to let her belt fall to the floor, followed shortly by her dress.

She clearly meant it as some sort of finishing blow, but Magus could not recall ever having seen a naked human woman before. He supposed Queen Zeal looked all right - she clearly led the soft life of a Zealian, and was the mother of two rather than a fresh maiden, but she didn't have any obvious scars or deformities. He simply couldn't pull up any feelings other than a detached sort of revulsion.

She crawled over him, hair falling around them to shut out the light and knee pressed firmly against his groin. There was clear impatience in her tone when she said, "Still, Prophet?"

"Forgive me, my Queen," Magus said, scrambling for one last excuse. "A moment more only." He shifted his hips against the Queen's leg, cursing every part of his body. Respond or we will be exiled, he thought at it viciously. Respond or it will all happen all over again. Respond or Schala will die and this will all be for naught.

He reached up and threaded his fingers through Queen Zeal's hair, drawing her head down for a clumsy kiss, a ploy to gain just a bit more time. She seemed to enjoy it, prying his mouth open again and biting at any flesh she could reach. Magus rocked his hips again and thought of Nagas and the Queen's ladies, unable to feel anything when his body finally caught up and began to harden against the Queen's leg.

The Queen pulled away, finally looking pleased again. The strange softness in her eyes was back as she pet at Magus' hair, the look almost affectionate. She did something with her hands he tried to ignore, focusing on the ceiling beyond her face, the texture of the blankets, the softness of the pillow. Once she had finished...whatever she did, Queen Zeal settled herself atop him, her legs bracketing his own, their chests pressed together.

It was not such a terrible thing, Magus thought distantly as the Queen began to move her hips. She placed one of his hands on her shoulder, he stroked the other down her back of his own accord. It was not such a terrible thing. He felt disconnected from himself, and looking at it like that, Queen Zeal merely made a toy of a body. And if that pleased her, then he could allow it, as he allowed all the other things that pleased her in her madness. It would all be over when the Ocean Palace was completed. Until then he could allow her to play as she liked. It was a small thing, in the end. He saw Lavos before him, and all things were small against it, against his vengeance.

The Queen pressed a kiss to his temple, the strange, almost-affectionate look still on her face. "Next time, Prophet," she whispered against his ear, "I will demand better." She laughed, high and breathless. "But do not worry. With Lavos, I will have all eternity to train you. And you will have all eternity to please me."

Magus forced a smile to his face and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. He'd kill her soon.


End file.
